


Unconditional

by saavik13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Families of Choice, Gen, Unconditional Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 14:10:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17061233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saavik13/pseuds/saavik13
Summary: Severus Snape was not an attractive child.





	Unconditional

Severus Snape was not an attractive child – that was the first unkind thought that crossed Minerva’s mind as she gazed at the stunned line of first years.  His mother had been a dear friend, for a time, before darkness and bitterness and desperation had driven them apart,   Minerva into the arms of a man who she’d seen good in even though there was none, and Eileen just _away_ , anywhere away.  It would be years before Minerva learned the truth, that Tom had abused Eileen , and her father had abused her, and Eileen had simply wanted as far away from wizards as she should could get.  Of course, Tom had eventually revealed himself for the vile creature he was, but Minerva had been one of the last to see the truth – Eileen had been the first. 

 

Severus, poor Severus, shared his mother’s dark eyes and hair, but on him it looked too dark, unhealthy as his skin was – yellow and thin like an old man even on the body of a young boy.  There was gauntness to him that could only come of hunger, and a desperation in his eyes that spoke of hardship and grief and pain. What had Eileen gotten herself into? Minerva wondered, not for the first time.  Attempts to visit had always ended in bitter words and slammed doors, and the last Minerva had seen of little Severus he was nothing more than a bump under his mother’s robes.

 

Minerva made it a practice to never speak to 1st years unless absolutely necessary, not till after the sorting, just the perfunctory words that duty demanded. She didn’t want to influence their choices, a kind word making them gravitate to her House when they should by all rights be somewhere else.  But Severus, oh she could see in him a need that could not end well for him no matter where he was placed. The way he stayed glued to the muggle-born redhead beside him was telling.  But after years and years at Hogwarts, Minerva could tell at a glance where most of her charges would end up and if the red head was destined for Gryffindor, Severus was not. 

  
Not that the child wasn’t brave, that was clear in the way he glared off the few purebloods that sneered at his friend.  No he was brave, too brave as a matter of fact.  But he was calculating, plotting, a deep intelligence and a keen ability to size up the enemy made him shrewd in a way no 11 year old should be – a trait not exactly suited for the house of lions.  Loyal he was, that was also obvious in how he would not be swayed from the girl’s side, a silent protector as she chatted and made friends with nearly anyone close enough to speak to.  But he wasn’t quiet, he wasn’t calm like a young Hufflepuff should be.  The air of contained violence about him, a temper just visible in the snarl of his lips and the twist of his mouth, precluded Ravenclaw.  Slytherin it must be and it broke her heart.

 

She could not protect him there, and protection he would need. Slughorn wouldn’t be much help either – too self-absorbed and too naive to see the danger to the young boy.  Lucius and his ilk would eat the boy alive, or at the very least drive him towards darkness from sheer loneness and fear. 

 

She could not stand by and do nothing.

 

It would be time for the sorting in just a few moments and for the first time in her long career, Minerva stepped into the midst of the first years, parting them like the sea, until she stood in front of the dark haired boy and his friend.  “Mr. Snape?” She asked, schooling her voice to impassive but her eyes, she knew she couldn’t control them, and as he looked up at her, his own eyes narrowed at what he saw in hers.

 

“Yes professor?”

 

“I knew your mother well, Mr. Snape, when we were in school together.  I suspect if you are at all like Eileen Prince you will be sorted into Slytherin, as a Prince is almost always.” She smiled, softly, gently, and ignored the mutterings of the purebloods behind her. They had mistaken him for a muggleborn but the name Prince carried a great deal of weight, even fading as the family was.  “Even though I am the Head of Gryffindor, my door is always open, Mr. Snape.  And, once you are settled, I’d love to see you for tea if you are interested. I have some rather amusing stories of your mother from our youth you might enjoy.”

 

“Yes, Professor.” He looked eager, eager in a way a boy shouldn’t be with a  mother still living, but then Eileen, the last she’d saw her, was hardly alive and the intervening years had probably not improved her situation.  “Tomorrow after classes?”

 

“That would be most agreeable.” Minerva rested a hand gently on his shoulder, squeezing it firmly for a long moment.  “I’m so glad you’re here, Severus. I’ve been looking forward to your arriving.  And who is this, if I might ask?” She turned eyes to the muggleborn girl next to him, the one with startling green eyes and hair red as fire.

 

“Lily Evans.” He introduced, with the first true smile he’d worn since arriving at the school. “We live near each other.”  
  
“He’s the one that told me I was a witch.” Lily admitted, with a fondness, reaching out to grasp his hand.  “We’re best friends.”

 

Minerva tried not to smile but was sure she failed. “Well, Ms. Evans, you were lucky to have such a fine introduction to our world as I’m sure Mr. Snape was able to give.  The Princes have always been an intelligent and talented House. I’m sure Eileen’s son is just as fine an example to follow.”  With that, she nodded at the children and stepped back to begin her welcome speech.

 

Later, after the sorting had gone exactly as she’d expected, and Dumbledore had frowned at her with a look of reproach for most of the meal, she watched with sadness as Lily and Severus separated at the Great Hall doors, looking after one another forlornly. 

 

Severus arrived promptly after classes on the first day, his dark eyes eager and calculating.  Minerva wasn’t surprised in the slightest and rather than meet with him in the somewhat harsh sterility of her office she ushered him into her sitting room where tea and sweets were laid out waiting. “I hope my seeking you out did not hurt your standing in Slytherin, Severus.” Minerva began softly.  “I hoped by making it clear what family you are from it would ease your way at least a little.”

 

Severus sat stiffly in the chair. “You did that on purpose?”

 

Minerva couldn’t help grinning smugly. “Well, your house isn’t the only one to be capable of cunning.  And despite the fact that your mother shunned my company, not without reason to my regret, during the last year of school and after her marriage, I still consider her a good friend.  I knew it was unlikely you’d follow Evans into Gryffindor, where I could give you the attention you deserve, and that Slytherin would be a difficult place for you at first.  It was the only thing I could think of to ease your way.’  
  
“I suspect it helped.” Severus shifted slightly.  “The others don’t like me but now they won’t do anything because they think it will upset the Princes.  Once they figure out that they don’t even know about me I’m sure they will all take it out on me properly.”

 

“They won’t.  Because your grandfather is on his deathbed and there are no other living heirs.  I’ve arranged for you to meet him on the weekend and given his lack of options I expect you will be given the Legacy.”

 

Severus’ eyes widened. “But he hates us, hates mother.”  


“He’s a bastard.” Minerva did not mince words. “And if he had the strength to crawl out of his bed I’d never let you in the room with him. He was a terrible brute of a father, and his appalling treatment of your mother is what lead her to the life she has now, all an attempt to escape him I wager.  But he’s dying, and his two sons, your uncles, were little better and have ended up in ruin and early graves.  If the House of Prince is to survive, it needs an heir. Even a half-blood will do rather than let it diminish entirely.  There’s not many gallons left, I’d wager, but the heirship will at least grant you some measure of protection from your fellow snakes.  And most likely secure you an apprenticeship when the time comes, no matter where your interests lie.”

 

“Why? Why do that for me?”

 

“Because I failed your mother.” Minerva was bitterly honest – he deserved that.  “I failed her terribly and have never been able to make amends.  The least, the very least, I can do for her is to care for you.  You deserve some care, Severus, for it’s clear you’ve had very little of it.”

 

He did not argue that point, the truth of it clear in every line of his frown, but he changed the subject to the promised stories and when evening fell he left, and Minerva put away her tea setting and went to argue for her right to take the boy to receive his inheritance while it was still possible.

  
Albus was, as expected, opposed to the whole thing and irate at her singling the boy out for special treatment. It was Filius, thankfully there for a chess match, that defended her. “Albus, for Merlin’s sake, the boy is clearly in need of a little affection. He clings to Evans like she’s the only thing he cares about in the world, and she’s not going to put him in the center of hers- she can’t. She’s not the type.  Let Minerva mother the boy while he’s still young enough to have such a thing matter.  We all have our favorites, try as we might to deny it.  You’ve taken the Potter boy under your wing, it’s obvious, and the Black boy too.  Let the lad have someone in his corner for once.”

 

So permission was reluctantly granted, and arrangements made, and Saturday after breakfast Minerva escorted Severus out of the Great Hall and to gates.  “We have a quick stop to make before we go to see your grandfather.” Minerva decided with a quick glance down. The poor boy had dressed in his best uniform, which was still thread bare and more gray than black from age.  He couldn’t be seen by his grandfather looking like a beggar.

 

Severus bristled at being bought new robes, cries of not needing charity dying before they left his mouth but reflected in his eyes.  Pride, he could tame it, Minerva noticed with a  distinct feeling of the same emotion directed towards the boy.  He didn’t want to accept them but knew they would make his life easier.  She ordered three sets, having the extras delivered back to Hogwarts.  A new school bag followed, and when she caught him gazing longingly in the window of a shop, a brand new set of the best potions equipment available – a complete set ready for NEWT level work, not the stripped down first year kit sold to students, was added to their haul.  She’d caught him reading a potion text twice in her class already – it was clear where his interests lay.  The set was not inexpensive, nor was it extravagant, and it would last him until his talents outstripped them rather than wearing out and needing constant replacement like the cheaper student kits.  It was an investment in him more than anything.

 

Tears almost, almost, fell as he watched the set be packaged up.  When they exited the shop and started for the apparition point, strong but tiny arms wrapped themselves around her and shocked Minerva into standing still.

 

“Thank you.” He breathed into her robes, hugging her so hard as if he thought she’d disappear. “Thank you.”

 

She put one arm around his small shoulders and squeezed him back. “Any time my boy, anytime.”

 

The visit to the Prince mansion went about as good as she’d expected it. Severus was ram rod straight and unflappable even as she could see him simmering in anger as his grandfather bashed his mother for nearly an hour, calling her all sorts of wretched names and accusing her of all the lose behavior of a whore.  Severus bore it silently and when finally his grandfather ran out of words, he stepped forwards, eyes cold. “Yet you have no choice do you old man?”

 

Angrily, and silently, the miserable excuse for a wizard signed the document granting Severus heirship to all the Prince legacy.  They were dismissed without a single kind word or familiar gesture.  Which was just as well. Another minute and Minerva might have ended in Azkaban.  
  
“No wonder my mother was stupid enough to marry that muggle, if living with that was the alternative.” Severus bit out angrily once they were past the house wards.  “If he wasn’t dying already I’d poison him and do the world a service.”

 

“Get in line.” Minerva muttered, which earned her an actual smile from the boy.  “Just remember, the next you see him we’ll be burning the body.”

 

Severus’ dark smile probably should have worried her but then Minerva had her own feral grin.

 

As time past, and Evans grew more and more popular, Severus grew more and more aloof.  Some of the boys in his dorm attempted to bring him into their circle, more for access to the Prince name than any true desire to spend time with the lad, but he resisted their efforts, preferring to orbit Evans like a small dark moon.  It broke Minerva’s heart.  Over the following years she did what she could to offer him a safe space, a safe adult that could care for him even the slightest.  He grew less and less receptive to it, but sadly needed it more, as time went on.

 

The fight was frankly inevitable.  Lily Evans was not meant for Severus Snape and was in fact a rather cruel girl in many ways. She was quick to temper, long to forgive, and utterly rash in her judgements.  She’d clung to Severus, or more truly allowed his clinging, because he was the one thing that offered her answers to what she was. But attending Hogwarts had stripped him of his mystery, of his only actual worth to her, and while at first she’d tried to remain loyal the differences between them were as wide as a canyon and simply could not stand the stress of adolescence.  While she’d known it was coming, Minerva had expected a more gradual parting after a series of petty disagreements, the sort that always cropped up with puberty and hormones and the inevitable call of familiar duties.  But no, her Severus never did anything by halves.

 

The fight was silly and the insult not at all imaginative.  The fact the Evans took it so personally told more about her than it did Severus, at least to Minerva’s experienced eye.  Evans was looking for an excuse to ditch her long time friend, tired of having him hover about, and tired of having to make up excuses for him. Severus, poor dear boy, was devastated, going so far as to sleep outside the common room door to plead his case.  But Evans took every attempt at an apology as somehow another insult and Minerva was sorely tempted to hex her. It was one thing to pull away from a childhood friendship. It was another to break it apart with a hammer and proceed to bludgeon the poor miserable sod with the broken bits of it.

 

Perhaps in spite, Severus took to accepting invitations from the darkest of the dark – throwing himself into being what Evans had so stupidly accused him of being. He hadn’t been headed down that road, not really, not until she’d rejected him. And now Minerva feared there was nothing else she could do to save him.

 

The Shrieking Shake broke what little hope she had – the headmaster putting the nail into the poor boy’s coffin.  “You can’t do this, Albus!” Minerva screeched, pulling a still pale and trembling Severus into her arms and hugging the near man to her as if she could physically shield him from the situation.  “You can’t let Sirius Black get away with this!”

 

“I haven’t a choice. Remus is innocent, Minerva, and if I punish Sirius it reveal him.  Mr. Snape must remain silent on the matter.”

 

Minerva McGonagall had never taken a student to her bed for any reason whatsoever but when they left the headmaster’s office there was no way in the nine circles of hell she was sending Severus to his dorm in the state he was in.  He was silent, and so afraid, and Minerva had to spell him into pajamas and tucked him in next to her. It was utterly chaste, of course, but she slept that night with hers arms around the boy and when he woke her up crying she did her best to sooth him.  Some part of her doubted he’d ever gone to his mother for comfort in the night, never shared his parent’s bed after a nightmare, and he was far too old for it now but he needed what comfort she could give so she gave it.

 

And when he knocked on her door at 2am the next night she didn’t say a word about curfew, just gave him a sleep draught, tucked him in again, and held him till morning. 

 

“Severus,” She stated calmly in the morning, fussing with his robes and smiling slightly at the disgruntled look on his face that said he was too old for all this nonsense, “I will be here if you need me, no matter what path your life takes.  If you need tea and sympathy, I am here.  If you need a place to weather the storm, I am here.” She held his eye.  “I realize your parents never taught you what unconditional care was, but you have it dear boy.  I will never turn you away.”

 

The coming years would prove exactly how trying it was to maintain that vow.  She watched, powerless to stop him, as he left school and ran into the clutches of the most vile of men.  Watched as he tore himself to pieces over that rash choice not that many months later. 

 

Then it happened – and he fell apart.  Dumbledore brought him back to Hogwarts, wet and beaten, and dumped him in the dungeons as if giving him Slughorn’s job would add meaning to a life he had no interest in living.  The rest of the staff avoided him, rumors of his ill temper and his miss spent youth traveling faster among the staff than she was sure they would when the students returned.  Filius at least smiled at him, and offered him tea and help with lesson plans if he needed it, but he was the only one.

 

Minerva took her time, giving him some space to see if he would come to her and when he didn’t, she went to him with a warm rug under her arm for the freezing floors, a bottle of firewhiskey to chase off the chill, and a small wager on the coming quidditch year to try and distract him.

 

He looked a mess when he opened his door, his hair unwashed, his robes wrinkled, and his face ashen.  His soul, she was sure, was just as battered as his body.  She laid the carpet by the empty fireplace, the whiskey on the table, and the wager on the desk before seating herself in one of the two chairs placed in the empty sitting room.  Severus, bless his soul, sank slowly down across from her.

 

“I wish you’d been my mother.” He finally admitted, eyes falling to the darkened hearth.

 

“So do I.” Minerva admitted in a tight voice. 

 

He shook his head. “How can you say that, after everything?”

 

“Because I love you, Severus. Nothing you do will ever change that.  I’m so glad you’re home.”

 


End file.
